To Pick a Flower
by k. jillianne
Summary: Ever since he saw her, he declared his love for her. His friends laughed. A few people actually pitied him. Yet he still remained loyal to his declaration. And thank Merlin for that. LJ oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **I own none of the characters. JK Rowlingwill forever. But this remains my own.

**To Pick a Flower**

Everyone knew who James Potter claimed to be in love with. Most people only saw the reality of the situation in the seventh year of the four pranksters who called themselves the Marauders. True, they played pranks on anyone ranging from a Slytherin bag of grease known as Severus Snape to an innocent first year of Gryffindor. They could care less about what the consequences would be because the thrill, the laughs, and the applause they'd receive in the end of it all was totally, and completely, worth the punishment. They could get detention for a whole year, and yet, their endless plotting would resume.

But there was one girl who James Potter was quite easy on. He, after all, had claimed to be so deeply and madly in love with this girl that he would do the most idiotic thing in the world. And it would have been done merely to gain her attention. And of course, the reaction James would receive from this girl remained the same. But he didn't care.

She despised him, or so everyone thought. It was only James who was the first to believe otherwise. Nonetheless, she had mentioned how revolting she found the Marauder. Her insults were thrown back and forth, her words like a snake's venom. Perhaps it was due to the fact that this girl had been best friends with a Slytherin boy for over five years. But the bloody bastard decided he would change his mind and shout a name he swore to never ever call her.

_Mud blood,_ he called her, a_ filthy little mud blood.  
_

Merlin, that day was a nightmare. James Potter had been rejected by that girl, and she had lost one of the best friends she ever had.

A certain red haired witch was one known to be quite the beauty. That was one of the reasons boys had adored her. Girls envied her beauty and they wanted to be that girl. After all, she had James Potter at her feet, just begging her to take him. He was so bloody obsessed with the girl that most of the Hogwarts students found it quite disgusting. Had you been a Slytherin, bile would rise in your throat and sit in your mouth, and you'd have the urge to laugh at the prankster, laugh at his misery and constant rejection which he received from the girl he was so completely in love with. He would have done practically anything for her, just to get her to go on a date with him. Bribes would pop in every now and then. He'd stop hexing and cursing the Slytherin she had befriended. He'd stop being so bothersome.

But that girl didn't care. She truly hated the wizard with all her heart. Her heart would contain with the most passionate amount of fury at the very mention of his name. Students pushed her about with eager demands for her to go out with James. At least once would suffice. But her stubbornness caused her to never agree to such idiocy. It was exceedingly appalling to even think about that. Well, at least to her it was.

And still, despite all the rejection, insults and consistent snapping, James Potter was still in love with Lily Evans. And she just wanted him to stop.

And still, despite all the fame, compliments and pleads from girls, James Potter was still in love with Lily Evans. And she dearly hated that fact.

How staggering it was to even think that such an arrogant git would fancy a girl such as her! She, whom all the teachers adored and always stuck her nose in a book, was loved quite dearly by a wizard like him: the infamous prankster was known for all the self-centered things he'd done to gain the attention of anyone he could, and the down right self-righteous remarks he so gallantly proclaimed. Young witches of his year and younger tittered with pleasure whenever they caught him smiling at them. Even if the act was merely to gain more attention and another group to follow him every day, they practically adored him.

Out of all the girls at Hogwarts, he had to choose the one who'd refuse him.

And week after week, he asked her to go out with him. Well, his tactics weren't quite charming, per say. They were rather moronic, and were partly the reason why he was so consistently decline. That and the fact that he was too self-righteous were the reasons why his flower rejected him quite a many times. But it was he who chose to pick a flower. And although this flower gave it the appearance of innocence and whatnot, but boy, she was far from that. Some flowers can bite, including the stray Lily.

At first, James Potter had no bloody clue that the young girl would snap at him, should he try and flirt. No, he thought she'd follow the other stereotype that was placed upon red-heads. He didn't think that she would yell at him. He thought that her cheeks would redden in embarrassment and shyness. He didn't expect fire. He expected timidity.

"You're so bloody annoying, Potter. You and Black should just get your wands shoved up your arses. Maybe then the world would seem much lovelier." She had shrieked at him in their second year after James and Sirius had pulled a prank on her. He had found it quite amusing at that moment, and then he realized she wouldn't warm up to him any time soon.

"Oh, Lily, my flower; how you torture me so!" He had cried out to her in their sixth year after she had, yet again, declined his offer. She easily stated that her opinion of him hadn't changed over the years, and that, in fact, it never would.

And then their sixth year was over. Their final year, however dramatic it would be, was one most looked forward to. The Marauders, however, were completely ecstatic. Yet one thing was bringing down the enthusiasm of one. A certain wizard with black hair, naturally tousled in the back, hazel eyes and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose was sulking about how this was his last chance at happiness and, should his attempts fail, he'll never be happy again. Boy, James Potter was certainly one melodramatic boy.

Oh, Merlin, he was so nervous. His palms were beginning to sweat with anticipation and fear. Certainly, she would reject him once more. And so, with his anxiety, he made his way down the train corridor towards the compartment in which the Head Boy and Girl sat. Obviously, Dumbledore would have picked Lily Evans to be the Head Girl, and to add to that, he must have been mad for choosing James Potter as the Head Boy.  
Nevertheless, the red haired witch, who sworn her loathing of the Marauder, was absolutely flabbergasted by the sight of James Potter with 'HB' on the badge he had.

Their trip to Hogwarts was, without a doubt, as awkward as it can get. Or perhaps things could get worse? Either way, neither was able to look the other in the eye without feeling even the slightest ounce of embarrassment. Although, Lily did say something, but that was all; to shorten it, she wouldn't believe that James was Head Boy, and then she said no more.

Seventh year was their last year.

He wanted to spill his heart out to Lily, even if no one believed that he did. After all, he was secretly a deep guy, but what man in their right mind would admit to that? And in the end, he was a bloody coward. He chickened out and decided to wait until later on before he once again, asked her out. Silently, he pleaded that the girl would agree to the request. And thank Merlin she did. Had she, once again, declined him with such ease and indifference, he'd feel rather weak and hopeless. He loved her, oh; honestly, he really did. And letting her go would have been suicide.

An angel, that's what she was. Lily Evans was the angel in James Potter's dreams. She smiled once—twice—and he'd be happy enough to die; but not without her.

He'd never die without knowing she loved him too. But did she? He had to smile as he recalled that thought from a year ago. He truly, deeply, wished that one red-haired witch would fall so madly in love with him. And stars fell, compliments and insults thrown back and forth—of course, the insults to the boy and compliments to the girl. Still, despite all her declinations, James Potter remained madly in love with the girl: his flower.

Ever since he saw her, he declared his love for her. His friends laughed. A few people actually pitied him. Yet he still remained loyal to his declaration.

And thank Merlin for that.

Because if he hadn't remained loyal to such an avowal he wouldn't have been here, marrying the girl of his dreams. Lily Evans wouldn't have been changing her name to become Lily Potter. He wouldn't have been marrying her today.

And in his vows, he stated so proudly, "I'm glad I chose to pick a flower."

Lily, having been truly moved by this, reddened with delight. She smiled at him, and replied in a soft voice, "And I too, am glad."


End file.
